


Duet (+1)

by Boldly_going_places



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama HS AU, High School AU, M/M, Multi, Theater AU, also, because that's the only thing I know about, but I don't know anything about lacrosse, so don't expect anything special, they play lacrosse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boldly_going_places/pseuds/Boldly_going_places
Summary: John wasn’t surprised by a lot. And even when he was, he was incredibly good at hiding it, but this surprised him so much, his mouth merely fell open and he gawked. Thomas Hamilton and James McGraw were singing a duet (something from Beauty and the Beast, he was sure, Thomas taking the higher notes); that is, to clarify, the varsity lacrosse team manager and captain were duetting after school in an empty hallway. And damn. They were good.





	1. Chapter 1

John wasn’t surprised by a lot. And even when he was, he was incredibly good at hiding it, but this surprised him so much, his mouth merely fell open and he gawked.

It was after a late rehearsal, while he was meandering back to his locker to pick up his APUSH textbook when he came upon the scene of James McGraw sitting on top of the lockers and Thomas Hamilton standing between his legs, staring deeply into his eyes--if John was a sap (which he was _not_ ) he would’ve found it sweet. They were singing a duet (something from _Beauty and the Beast,_ he was sure, Thomas taking the higher notes); that is, to clarify, the varsity lacrosse team manager and captain were duetting after school in an empty hallway. And damn. They were good.

Just that rehearsal, Gates had been lecturing them about practicing and volume and trying to stay in key at least seventy percent of the time. If John could wrangle the jocks into doing something--anything--for the musical, he knew he’d be a godsend to Gates.

John snapped out of his thoughts when the two stopped singing. Quickly, he shoved his face into his locker.

And yet.

“Do you have a problem?” James snapped at him.

John slowly looked back to the couple, giving himself time to think of something clever to say and not panic.

For a moment, he looked at them blankly, caught off guard by intense blue eyes fixed on him. He shifted, now leaning partly against the locker.

“Hey, no judgement, I’m as gay as they come.” _Well_ , John thought, _bisexual, really, but_. He pointed to the pride button on his backpack strap.

James grunted and Thomas rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Sorry, don’t mind him.”

“Nah, people are assholes, I get it,” John said and turned back to his locker, then took his head back out and said, “Speaking of gay...we could use some nice voices for the musical--y'know, just to polish things out a little.”

The two looked at each other and had a quick, silent conversation that John didn’t understand.

“Sounds fun,” Thomas said. “We’ll think about it.”

“Awesome. I’m John, by the way,” he said.

“See you around, John,” Thomas said and smiled at him. James was still staring him down.

“See ya’,” John said and turned to leave, walked down the hallway a bit, remembered he needed his textbook, turned to his locker, grabbed the book and left. The whole time, James was still giving him a glare, and it wasn't until John left the building that he breathed. Billy was waiting for him by his car. When he was all settled, music playing from the crappy speakers, and the heat up just enough to keep them warm, John gave himself a triumphant smile.

 

 

“What was that for?” Thomas asked his boyfriend with an accusatory glare.

“What?” James said, his face forming into a spectacle of affection for the boy in front of him.

“Oh, _I don’t know_ , maybe glaring at John like he was going to jump us the whole time he was talking,” Thomas said.

James snorted and looked away from Thomas, hopefully to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks.   

“Are you embarrassed he heard us singing?” Thomas asked, gently pulling his boyfriend’s gaze back to him. To his non-reply reply, Thomas smiled gently at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips that James smiled into. Thomas’ hands rested on James’ thighs.

“No,” he lied, forehead against Thomas’. Thomas laughed lightly, pushed off his thighs, and grabbed his bag, which had been abandoned against the wall.

“I have too much homework to be dilly-dallying around, c’mon.”

James sighed and forced himself off the lockers. He reached out to grab Thomas’ hand, leaned against the taller boy ever so slightly as they walked out of the school.

In the car, on the way to Thomas’ house, with classic rock seeping from the speakers, James turned to Thomas and asked seriously, “You’re not _actually_ considering doing the musical are you?”

Thomas cocked his head, eyes still on the road. “Why not?”

James scoffed. “Why not? Thomas it’s a musical.”

“It could be fun! And John is a little cute,” Thomas said, wiggling his eyebrows. “I heard the theater kids get pretty crazy during cast parties.”

“Je- _sus_ ,” James said.

“C’mon, how bad could it be?” Thomas hazarded a glance to his boyfriend and found him with crossed arms, staring out the window. “What is it?” Thomas asked, seriously. To his non-answer, Thomas said again. “Seriously, James what’s wrong.”

“Theater’s just...it’s…”

“What?” Thomas pushed as he slowed the car and pulled it over to a stop.

“Gay! It’s gay, okay?” James yelled, then stared out his window, away from Thomas.

Thomas turned the car off and looked to his boyfriend--anger started to bubble under his skin, the words of so many straight guys filling his head, ‘fag’ thrown at him on the bus, always being the ‘gay kid’ or the ‘queer.’ But...this wasn’t them. This was James. This was James, who had blushed viciously when Thomas had first complimented his form. This was James, who bought him bouquets of roses and pinned a boutonniere on his black jacket for prom and beat the shit out of that one guy who glared at them when they kissed in public the first time (which was a bit much, but honestly...he deserved it). This was _his_  James.

“James,” he said softly. “Love.”

Slowly, James reoriented his gaze to Thomas and looked at his boyfriend--there was nothing but love on his face. He sighed and flopped back into his seat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t…” Thomas said, and took James’ hand, kissed his knuckles. James followed his movements with his eyes. In the quiet of the car, the trees creating a canopy over the road, rain pittering on the windshield, Thomas looked into James’ blue eyes. “James, my truest love...know no shame.”

James snorted--it was the same thing he had said hundreds of times to him, in the moments when James almost couldn't stand anything--but leaned into kiss his boyfriend.

“It wouldn’t be awful, would it?” Thomas asked, forehead against his.

“You really want to?” He asked.

“Honestly? Yes,” Thomas said. “I love lacrosse, but it's good to change things sometimes, isn't it?”

James sighed and pulled back. “If that little shit, John or Jane or whatever his name was, tries to get me to sing alone I will murder him.”

Thomas laughed, kissed his boyfriend one more time, a kiss that said ‘I love you,’ and ‘thank you,’ and he started the car again and turned up the radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know where I'm going with this I swear! So, John is an actor/everything for the drama department, which doesn't get enough love, and Thomas and James are in love, obviously, and kind of jocks, but nice about it. I think y'all probably know where this is going, but still. Gates is the director, who will probably show up next chapter. Okay thanks for reading! Comments are amazing :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1st rehearsal with the lax boys

James and Thomas were waiting at John’s locker that morning, talking quietly to each other. He approached casually, the press of his crutch on the floor pulling the two boys out of their reverie.

“John!” Thomas said, perking up. “Good morning!”

“Hey,” John looked around to see why they were leaning against _his_  locker and not hanging out with their jock friends. “Can I, uh, get to my locker?”

“Oh, yeah.”

As John was sorting through his stuff, Thomas said, “So, we thought about your offer, for the musical, and we want to do it.”

“Hey! Awesome,” John said and looked back to the boys. “Gates’ll be ecstatic, you don’t even know, he nearly had aneurism yesterday, it was nearly impossible to get anybody to sing louder than a damn mouse, which is ridiculous, and everybody was screwing around...it’s gonna be great to have you guys there.” He grabbed his Chemistry binder from his locker, shoved it in his bag, and started to Mr. Hands class.

Thomas and James followed.

“I’m not saying they’re not trying, but damn, those freshman are shy as hell when they sing, and frankly, they make up the majority of the ensemble. And it’s not like they have terrible voices, because they don’t, they just need a push to be louder--honestly, that’s all that Gates really cares about at this point,” John rambled.

James cleared his throat. “What will _we_ be doing?”

“Oh, well, it would be nice if you guys could help out some people with pitch and confidence, and it would be awesome if you could beef up the chorus,” John said. “Gates’ll have more, I’m sure.” John looked to the red head next to him, who was once again having a silent conversation with Thomas--this one definitely meant ‘why the hell did you talk me into this’. “But, obviously, you’re doing lacrosse, too, which takes up time, so if you can’t do all that, it’s fine--we’ll be happy to have any help, honestly.”

James grunted.

“Y’know, you haven’t said more than five words to me,” John teased. “Is it personal?”

Thomas glanced over to his boyfriend, a mischievous glint in his eye. John raised an eyebrow at that and a small smirk played on his lips.

“Afraid I’ll steal your boyfriend?”

James scowled at him, but Thomas laughed, and man...he had a nice laugh, full and contagious, and John found himself glancing at him to see what his face looked like and he realized what he was doing and forced himself to look forward and not blush. He _was_ just kidding about stealing James’ boyfriend.

“If you even _think_ about it…” James said, and John snorted.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a complete douchebag,” John said. “Especially not to a guy who could fuck with my reputation.”

“Reputation?” James asked, skepticism coloring his voice.

“The local tough guy,” John said.

James snorted.

“Tell me how you really feel,” John muttered.

“You’re a theater kid,” James said.  

“And? Do you have five hour rehearsals then have to go to school the next day or holler at a group of rambunctious freshman then have to convince them you’re not a complete asshole? Or have to spend twelve hours working on set making during the weekend--which involves a huge amount of carpentry and artistry--and then have half of what you were planning completely flushed down the drain by the school because it ‘costs too much money’, then watch the football team get new fields every two years, so you have to compromise and struggle to find costumes and good plays for cheap? You don’t know tough, James,” John said, trying not to get too riled up, but he’d be damned if he let this beefy asshole insult his dear drama society.

James lost his chance to reply, because they were already at Mr. Hands’ class--John stopped up short. Madi was inside, arguing with Hands over the homework assignment. Madi was his ex and they hadn’t ended on good terms, to say the least. In fact, it had all ended with a horrendously public argument that John regretted to this day.

They started dating their freshman year--Madi was an advocate for civil rights, like her mom and dad, and was an amazingly powerful leader; she had the ability to commandeer any room she wanted. John remembered the moment he had fallen in love with her: They had been going over the civil rights unit in US History, and the teacher kept referring to everything like it was in the past--as if it had no effect on the current sociopolitical landscape--and Madi had corrected him, at first in a respectful way, but the teacher wouldn’t shut up, and the next day, with piles of sources and information, destroyed everything he said. Consequently, the teacher resigned out of ignominy. She and John dominated with their combined minds, but that was the problem in the end. They were organizing a protest in town, for trans rights to use whatever damn bathroom they wanted, but Madi wanted to take it farther--she was willing to fight state legislature and the whole bit, but John...he wasn’t equipped to handle it: There was a huge fight at school and everybody saw it and that was that, and John resided to his theater group and stayed out of politics.

John was civil to her, and Madi to him, but no matter what, there was always tension between the two if they were in the same room for more than fifteen minutes. So seeing Madi now, arguing with Hands, made him a bit anxious.

Thomas and James knew about this. Everybody did. They glanced at each other behind John’s back, Thomas grimacing.

“Y’know what...I forgot my water bottle at my locker,” John said and turned to leave (he had, actually).

“I can get it for you,” Thomas said.

“Thomas,” James hissed, but Thomas was already down the hall, unheeding.

John sighed and walked his way into the classroom, to the back of the room, staying as far away from Madi and Mr. Hands as possible. James stayed with him. Madi looked up, barely spared him a glance before focusing back on her paper.

John stared down at the lab table, then to James, who leaned with his back against the lab table next to him. He was on his phone, texting somebody, expertly hiding it from the eyes of the teacher. John’s eyes trailed to his hands, up his arms (and damn, did he have _nice_ arms), down to the curve of his hips, legs. Shit. Wait. He was checking him out, but not in a sexual way--a guy could appreciate another guy right? Wasn’t that something only straight guys said to themselves when they found their best friend hot?

 _God,_ John thought, _I’m so gay. Well, bisexual, really, but._ He averted his gaze back down to the table and held back his blush, before James could catch him staring.

Thomas waltzed back into the room, water bottle in hand. He smiled politely at Hands and Madi.

“Here you go,” Thomas said and put the water bottle on the table. He leaned into his boyfriend and kissed him on the cheek. “We should get to class. By John.”

“See you at rehearsal? At four?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Thomas said and linked his arm with James’.

“Bye,” James said over his shoulder.

John watched them leave, noticed the casual affection between the two, how Thomas leaned down ever so slightly to say something to James, which made him laugh. When his eyes traveled down both of their forms, John didn’t notice, not until his gaze wandered back around the room and he saw Madi looking at him, not with any malice or affection, but with an arched eyebrow that said, _Do you think you’re good enough for them?,_ but not insulting him. Just a genuine question.

John looked away first, down to his arms and hands, away from Madi.

 

The day passed without much of anything. John let it go by him. His mind wandered aimlessly, and then not so aimlessly, as he was pulled back to Thomas and James every few minutes--mindless doodles in his notebook gave way to names; when he realized what he was doing, he quickly scribbled them out and focused back on class, chiding himself for acting like an eleven year old with a crush

He wasn’t...embarrassed, per se, he just preferred not to have feelings for anybody. Feelings for things was fine. That was easy. He liked things. But feelings for people...that just made everything messy, especially having feelings for two people, who were already dating, that...that was never good, not for him.

After the last bell rang and before rehearsal started, he lectured himself, pacing back and forth back stage.

“I’m not going to catch feelings for two boys that I don’t even know. I’m not going to think about them or look at them, unless I have to. I’ll be civil, not flirty. I’m just horny and they were there, that’s all. I feel nothing for them.” It was always easier to hear himself say these things out loud. When it was in his head, he could just pretend it was some annoyance niggling back there, like a teacher trying to tell him what to do--but saying it to himself, he couldn’t ignore it. Anyways, he always gave the best advice, so it was hard _not_ to listen to himself.

John set down on the edge of the stage and waited. By 3:50 cast and crew started trickling in, but no Thomas and James. Typical of sport fiends. Typical.

It was unusual, however, for Gates not to be there a few minutes early. So by 4:05, John was a little annoyed, but took matters into his own hands as stage manager.

“Okay, everybody, let’s get up onstage and start vocal warm ups.”

Everybody hopped to action. Max stood next to John, and nudged him gently. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Gates is late,” John said.

“And?”

“He’s never late.”

“Yes I mean, something else is wrong,” she pushed.

“Thomas and James, you know them, they said they were coming to help out, and yet,” John said, gesturing slightly to the crowd.  

“Really?”

“I know, I was a little surprised, too, but they’re good, Max, I mean...good.”

Max hummed and  John stepped forward and clapped his hands together to get everybody’s attention.

It wasn’t until 4:10, when everybody was warmed up and studying lines that Gates, Thomas, and James all entered the auditorium at the same time. The three were talking and having a grand old time, as far as John could tell, and if that didn’t just...God, he needed to calm down. Gates was the _director_ for fuck’s sake (yeah, that wasn’t helping).

John sighed and walked over to the group.

“John! So sorry I’m late, I got caught up talking to these two, thanks for getting everybody started,” Gates said.

“Yep, no problem. That’s my job,” John said and smiled winningly at the man. Gates patted him on the shoulder, walked by and addressed the group. Still smiling, John eyed the boys. “Four o’clock, next time, please.”

“We were on our way,” Thomas said, but John was already turned around and walking away, back towards the group. God, he was _pissed,_ but he shouldn’t be this pissed; still, he pointedly didn’t look back at them.

“...and we’ve got two new people who’ll be helping us out, Thomas and James,” Gates introduced as the two walked up the stairs behind John.

“Set work?” Eleanor, a slightly uppity but fiercely dedicated girl, asked.

“Singing,” Thomas piped up, smiling sweetly at Eleanor, who arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“Okay, you already did vocal warm ups?” Gates asked.

“Yep.”

“Let’s run through some again, have Thomas and James do some and then jump into Belle.”

There were a few grumbles, but everybody stood up straight again and ran through tongue twisters and octaves. John didn’t glare at James and Thomas too much, but he was caught at one point by Thomas, who winked at him, and John quickly looked away and forced a stupid blush from his face, because he wasn’t checking him out or anything, he was _glaring_ \--the point was that he was mad, couldn’t Thomas see that? Max nudged him and arched a carefully sculpted eyebrow. He rolled his eyes.

By the end of rehearsal, they had run through Belle a few times and blocked out the first scene and song--James and Thomas had earned a few surprised stares (and envious glares) when they sang earnestly with the rest of the chorus.

John really tried to watch everybody and mark their blocking and choreography, but there was something infuriating about the two boys that kept drawing his attention away from Max and the rest of the cast. They would glance at each other every so often and share a little smile, and if that wasn’t adorable (which it wasn’t), or the way Thomas discreetly grabbed James’ hand whenever he seemed to get nervous and squeeze it gently then let go, lest anybody see (but John saw and, God, even he had to admit it was slightly, a tiny bit, just a smidge endearing). James caught him staring at one point, but John darted his eyes away, missing any reaction from the redhead (if he had kept looking, he would’ve seen a little blush--obvious on James’ pale skin--color his cheeks).

By the end of rehearsal, John had missed half the blocking and the choreography notes were vague. He sifted through his script, shaking his head at himself.

“Distracted?” He jumped at the presence of Max and slammed his script closed, more out of habit than fear. He turned to the girl giving him a teasing smile.

“A stage manager is never distracted,” he replied, shoving his stuff into his bag.

“Don’t worry, I wrote down all my stuff, which,” Max said, and nudged him with her elbow, “we both know is the most important.”

John snorted and rolled his eyes. “Gates should’ve never cast you as Belle, you’re way too arrogant already.”

“Bye everybody!” Eleanor hollered from the auditorium door. John and the rest hollered their parting--waiting for Eleanor, John spotted Woodes Rogers, a rich kid with a rich dad who was entirely too full of himself. For some godforsaken reason she liked that boy.

Max glared at her retreating back.

John leaned in and said quietly, “I know you don’t really care, but you’re ten times hotter than Rogers could even conceive.”

“I know,” she replied and swung her backpack onto her shoulders. “See you tomorrow John.”

Anne and Jack--her girlfriend and sort of boyfriend--were waiting for her at the other doors, on the opposite side of the auditorium.

“See ya,” John said.

Everybody filtered out, with brief goodbyes, until there were only four of them--John, Gates, Thomas, and James. The latter three were talking enthusiastically about lacrosse, as far as John could tell and he just stared in incomprehension for a very long time. Thomas laughed every once in awhile, which caused James to stare lovingly at him, and John stared at James gazing at Thomas.

He must have spaced out for a good five minutes, because Billy appeared out of nowhere next to him. He was slightly stinky from wrestling, with a whiff of half hearted deodorant wafting off him.

“Bro, you good?” Billy asked and slapped his back. John jumped.

“Yeah, I’m good, I just--yeah I’m good,” he said.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah,” John said, but didn’t move much.

Billy eyed the two boys onstage and rolled his eyes then gave John That Look.

“What?” John asked. Billy just kept looking at him. “You know what, no don’t answer that. Let’s go.”

He knew that Billy didn’t particularly like James and Thomas, though he couldn’t exactly remember why, which generally meant the reason was petty, and he didn’t want to listen to Billy bitch about it. With one last glance to the stage, John left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking, should Max or Eleanor play Belle? And then I realized, it wasn't even a question, and here we are. Also, John is fiercely denying how he really feels because lax bros suck and he would never, ever date any of them, he made a pact during his freshmen year with the other freshmen. Thanks for reading, i love you all, any constructive criticism is appreciated and kudos are always appreciated and I cry from happiness whenever i get comments! <3


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